


Carpe Noctem

by SocialDisease609



Category: Plague Tale: Innocence (Video Game)
Genre: Before and After, F/F, I don't know, Mutual Pining, Time Jump, Underage Drinking?, and they're drinking to keep warm not get blasted, good ol' classy seduction as adults in part two, it's just hard cider and kids drank casually back then lol, lady amicia de rune, open endings, professional thief melie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-06 21:43:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20513954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialDisease609/pseuds/SocialDisease609
Summary: TWO PART FICPart One: During her night shift at the Chateau, Melie can't help but try to make a worrisome Amicia feel better and distracted (FLUFF).Part Two: Four years later, Melie is a contract thief, and as the stars would have it, has been hired to steal from a Knight, who happens to be Amicia's fiance... (SOME SMOLDER-Y STEAMY STUFF HERE).





	1. Sunset and Hard Cider

**Author's Note:**

> Was originally going to be a one shot completely, but I figured it would be best to make it a two-part.
> 
> PLEASE let me know what you think lol

Mélie noticed Amicia leaning against a crumbling archway all the way from her lookout perch further elevated in the ruins. She was supposed to be keeping an eye out for the Inquisition or a migration of rats, but all her eyes wanted to dart to was the pathetic sight of the noble girl who was looking off into the distance as the sun set, her arms crossed against her chest as if she was sheltering herself from the cold.

Mélie knew where the noble girl’s mind was. Hugo had been gone for at least a week today. No doubt Amicia’s mind was full of horrifying images of Hugo dead on the side of a road, gnawed away by the populous rats, or experiencing unspeakable torture from the Inquisition. Mélie didn’t have to grow up with the girl to know that Amicia was a mission-oriented person, and nothing would really relieve her mind except accomplishing the mission itself: keeping Hugo safe.

“Hey, Amicia!” the thief waved from her perch. Amicia looked up, almost startled, and dropped her arms from her chest.

“Yes?” She asked, her voice echoing off the crumbling stone walls slightly.

“Want to keep me company on my shift?” Mélie continued to shout down. “Come up here and have some cider!”

Amicia seemed to hesitate for a second, but moved forward, making her way to the stairs that would take her to Mélie.

“Evening, Mélie,” Amicia greeted, her breath becoming visible in the chilled evening.

“Here, have something to drink. Take a seat, My Lady.”

Amicia took the small tin cup that was steaming with the cider.

“Where did you get this?” Amicia asked.

Mélie smirked, “You know the answer already, My Lady.”

“Can’t believe things like this can still be found right now…” Amicia blew on her cup gently before raising it to her lips. Mélie couldn’t help but notice that they were chapping. Not that it was a big deal or anything. Mélie’s lips, and everyone else she ever knew, had lips chapped when winter was coming, but Mélie suspected Amicia’s lips had always been soft up until all the hardships that were thrust onto everyone with the plague. Her hair, while braided in ribbons, was loose with flyaway strands, her complexion was blotched with dirt like that of a peasant, and her clothes were coated with the dust of her travels. She wondered what Amicia thought of herself now, if the state of her physical appearance irked her inner noble.

Amicia cleared her throat, probably from the sting of the alcohol, and brought Mélie back to focus.

“Good things can always be found, in every situation,” Mélie said, leaning back in her chair. “It just depends on how you measure things. For example, France is torn, we know this, but look,” Mélie pointed to the setting sun in the distance. The sky was turning mostly deep blue, but were the sun was slipping away, it was a swirl of pink and orange, with the great golden disk in the middle. “Can’t say that isn’t something beautiful and good.”

“Of course, even the simplest of the Lord’s work is beautiful.” Amicia nodded, taking in the colors. She stared at the sunset, but Mélie could still tell that Amicia’s mind was elsewhere.

Mélie reached to touch Amelie’s forearm. This got her attention. Amicia turned and looked at Mélie with sorrowful eyes.

“We will find him, Amicia,” Mélie said genuinely. “Trust me. He’s okay, and he’s got to be close.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Amicia repeated, in a tone that Mélie knew was Amicia begging for reassurance in something she probably told herself over, and over again. Mélie knew how that went, you can try to convince yourself of something with all your power, but nothing really comforts the soul like hearing it from someone else.

“Definitely,” Mélie said with a confident nod of her head and reached out to squeeze Amicia’s hand. “And you know what, tomorrow, we will go scouting again, even further than we usually survey. I’ll come with you.”

“Thank you, Mélie,” Amicia smiled sympathetically.

“Absolutely. I promise,” Mélie said. And then she did something before she could stop herself. She lifted Amicia’s hand and pressed it to her lips.

Amicia’s eyes widened in curiosity. “What… what was that for, Mélie?”

“What?” Mélie asked sharply, her cheeks blushing, carelessly letting Amicia’s hand go. “Your friends never did that? It’s like a … promise thing.”

Amicia stuttered, humored, “I don’t… well, I never saw the other children of noble houses a lot… but that…”

“Maybe a class difference,” Mélie waved dismissively, looking away. She picked up a stick that was leaning against her chair and poked the small fire that smoldered in the pit she had used to heat the kettle of cider.

“Mélie,” Amicia’s voice broke the brief silence. “Tell me about yourself?”

What was there to know? In comparison to Amicia’s life, there would be no common ground found.

“What do you want to know?” Mélie muttered, more frustrated with her embarrassment than the question.

“Where in France are you from?”

“I won’t bother you with the name of the village,” Mélie began. “I know you must be well taught in the geography of the kingdom, but we had no lord. No real lord at least. He was old with no heirs, and never came out. It was only a matter of time before his manor and the farmlands would be up for grabs. You know my father was a monster of a man, so there’s no point in going further into that.” 

Amicia looked at her hands instantly, which were now folded in her lap.

“I’m sorry,” Amicia murmured, “I just wanted to get to know you better.”

“It’s fine,” Mélie shrugged indifferently. “The fault for my father belongs to neither of us. It just so happens I was destined to be in my life’s environment. But it’s nothing to me now. I have taken charge of my own life’s direction, and that what matters to me most.”

“Do you think the world will ever go back to how it was before all this?”

Mélie thought for a second, her brows furrowing in genuine contemplation. “Perhaps, in a few years. That is if we successfully fend off the English. But I think you can handle that.” Mélie winked and Amicia laughed.

“Please,” she touched Mélie’s arm as she laughed.

“Don’t dismiss it so quickly, _Lady DeRune._” Mélie squinted as if she were scolding her. “Amicia the Amazon: Lady Knight of France- some say the sling she brandishes is the very relic wielded by King David in his defeat of Goliath.” 

Amicia giggled as she raised her cup of cider to her lips, the steam gently grazing against her face in graceful swirls.

“They might canonize you, Lady Amicia!” Mélie leaned back in her chair, satisfied with her story-making prose. Amicia liked that kind of stuff.

“That requires martyrdom, doesn’t it, though?” Amicia asked, lowering the tin cup after a cozy sip of her cider.

“Well… you’ll be the first saint who doesn’t have to die,” Mélie humorously threw her hands in the air in defeat.

Amicia leaned forward towards the fire, enjoying the warmth, her cup held between both hands. A miniscule smile curling at the edge of her lips. Melie took a sip of her own cider as she watched the flames dance in the reflection of Amicia’s eyes as she stared into the pit.

“When things get better, Mélie, what do you want to do with your life?” Amicia then asked, still watching the small flames lick the twigs that were burning within the belly of the fire.

“The same thing that I was going to do before the Plague.” Mélie admitted. “Believe it or not, but my life hasn’t really changed since the outbreak. I was always looting for my next meal and shelter. Now I just have to keep a look out for rats.”

“But you don’t want anything else?”

“What is there to want when you’re a peasant? It’s not like I can work my way up the ladder into nobility. I will always be in my class, might as well do what I want to within it.”

“What about marriage? Or a future family?”

“Ah yes, the woman’s purpose,” Mélie scoffed with sarcasm. “No plans for it, My Lady. I wouldn’t want to bring a human being into this world. I’ll be doing some souls a favor by keeping them in Heaven. I bet you had a betrothed already, huh? I know that’s something all classes have in common: marrying off girls as soon as possible.”

“No,” Amicia laughed, which genuinely surprised Mélie, and the noble took another deep draught of her cider before continuing. “I was quite the _spinster_. Lady Renee Durand- the Durand family owned the land where ours ended- Lady Renee is my age, but her Lord father married her at thirteen, insisting that she should at least bleed for a year before having children.”

Mélie shook her head in disgust, but chuckled at the ludicrous circumstance. “Good Lord,” Mélie drained her cup. “Thank the Lord my father was too drunk to arrange anything for me. Was more interested in seeing if I could make coin with traveling men instead.”

“That’s horrible,” Amicia frowned.

“Yeah, well…” Mélie shrugged. “That’s my father for you. Ever the business man… So, Spinster De Rune, never had any gentlemen callers?”

“Oh, I courted here and there, but found reasons to convince my father to end connections with all that came to call on me.” Amicia leaned for the kettle resting over the fire with a nearby rag and poured herself another serving. “They all were the same: apparently completely in love with me,” she said this with annoyed disbelief, “spewing the same sonnets in hopes of wooing me. The unoriginality surprisingly filled me with contempt. Also, they all intended to go fight the English as soon as possible, and I wasn’t interested in becoming a widow within weeks of becoming with child.”

Mélie felt incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of Amicia carrying children for some reason. She didn’t want to think about it, so she shook it off. “I can see them all,” Mélie grinned, placing her tin cup on the stone floor. “Silly fools.” Melie then reached for Amicia’s hand once more, cupping their palms together and placing her other hand onto of their clasp. Then, putting on her best noble lord impression, began to plead, “O, Lady Amicia, you eyes are so clear and blue like the life-giving rain, which relieves the drought in my heart- your hair, rich of auburn and deep cherrywood, and your complexion- gently peppered with the kisses of the sun! And your strength! My, what a fine hero you are to little boys and girls everywhere.”

Amicia’s smile twisted something in Mélie’s stomach. Mélie didn’t know a word for it- it was almost like a bashful smirk, like she wasn’t allowed to find entertainment in the words Mélie mocked, yet within her eyes Mélie could see wonder and amusement shine. The smile was absolutely beautiful and _real_.

Captivated, Mélie continued her theater. “O, Lady Amicia, permit me to steal a sin by pressing my lips upon your hand?”

Amicia controlled a faint exhale, making Mélie realize that the girl had been holding her breath for a moment there. Before responding, Amicia lifted her hand slowly, still clasped in Mélie’s hold.

“You may," Amicia said lowly, her voice deep like that of a true noble lady, and it sent a small shiver through Mélie to be reminded of the reality of Amicia’s status. She always knew what Amicia was, but to see her embody the spirit of a noble lady… Mélie held Amicia’s prevailing gaze as she raised her hand to her lips once more. Hazed as if this were a dream, Mélie closed her eyes as her lips tickled the skin of Amicia’s hand. After a full press of a doting kiss, Mélie told herself this was enough. She didn’t want to cross a line she knew she couldn’t cross with this woman of status. Besides, Amicia never showed enough coded interest for Mélie to assume she wanted to be pursued. All Mélie could do was indulge in stealing these brief moments of intimacy. Call her selfish, she didn’t care. Better to have had and lost than to not have had at all.

Gently returning Amicia’s hand to her lap, Mélie straightened up in her chair and grinned. “Is that how they are, My Lady?”

Amicia grinned widely and replied, “Amateur effort.”

“Oh my god,” Mélie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, roughly leaning back into her chair. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from grinning too, lightened by the sound of Amicia’s heavenly laughter.

“Amateur, my dear Mélie. But strangely, so much better than them.”

“Hmm,” Mélie scoffed, still crossing her arms and looking away from Amicia, playfully. “I should hope so. My real wooing would be much more than that.”

“Mhm,” Amicia murmured, amusement twinkling so lively in her eyes. “I wonder what that’s like.”

“You wouldn’t be able to handle it, My Lady,” Mélie teased, turning her attention to Amicia for a brief moment before returning to her crossed posture.

Amicia let out such a hearty laugh at the claim and Mélie’s heart swelled at her jovial passion. What a beautiful girl- Mélie didn’t care in that moment that she wouldn’t ever be able to have Amicia, because in this moment, she was honored with seeing Amicia _so_ happy, and was proud at having being the reason. For this unspoken moment, she could pretend Amicia was her girl.

After overcoming her bout of laughter, Amicia drained her cup once more, her cheeks pink from the steaming hard cider and merriness. She then placed the tin on the ground and stood up. Mélie followed suite.

“Thank you for your company and cheerfulness, Mélie, you have soothed so much of my soul tonight.”

“Of course, Amicia, anytime.” Mélie grinned triumphantly. “When you’re ready to head out tomorrow, let me know.”

“Thank you,” Amicia said softer this time. “I uh, I need to collect my thoughts before heading to bed.” She smiled with a faint remnant of that divine smile she blessed Mélie with just a few minutes ago. “I will be collected after a few minutes, so don’t mind me walking the grounds, okay?”

“I understand, Amicia.”

Amicia leaned forward and hugged Mélie, which the thief did not hesitate to requite. Amicia’s thumb caressed Mélie’s back before they broke the embrace.

“Goodnight, Mélie,” Amicia said, her eyes spoke of appreciation as she gazed into Mélie’s, and for a brief moment, darted to the thief’s lips as Mélie replied:

“Goodnight, Amicia.”

And the thief watched as Amicia turn away, daydreaming of the unrealistic, yet heart-racing possibility of Amicia wanting to kiss her goodnight.


	2. Four Years Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mélie takes on her "impossible" contract and reunites with Amicia, four years later.

Mélie didn’t really like the taste of ale, but she knew that as France was still rebuilding itself, even four years later, alcohol was safer than water. She grunted as she cleared her throat, feeling the burn pass slowly. Placing the tankard down on the sticky tavern table, Mélie lifted the top flap of the folded contract with her index finger.

With her years in the field, Mélie knew which establishments had jobs for people like her. People who made their coin evading and breaking the law. She had gone to the barkeep and asked him what work was available, and he knew what she meant. He showed her the contract, which apparently many thieves before her had turned down. Mélie was starting to see why:

_ Retrieval of Family Heirloom: Ruby Necklace and Ring set of the Moreau House. _

_Stolen by Sir Aramis Moreau, second in lineage to Moreau inheritance, from Lord Michel Moreau, First in Line of Moreau inheritance._

_250 Gold Pieces for the STEALTHY retrieval of said jewelry set, which must be returned to Lord Michel at Poulin Castle._

Mélie had done more dangerous jobs than this. She had been hired countless time to steal war intel from the English on behalf of her country, employed by a general or two. She had stolen keys off the hips of wardens to free political prisoners… her life escapades should have been chronicled in a series of novels. What made her think twice about this job- just twice- was the fact that Sir Aramis was newly engaged. She heard about it from some other noble she had robbed while hiding in his closet. In fact, the Knight was hosting a fete in a couple of days at his residence, Moreau Estate. This is what would make robbing the Knight _stealthily_ difficult. Mélie could rob people in crowds just fine, she knew how to blend. But for a person dressed as she was, her class in all bluntness, was harder in a crowd of nobility. The Knight had the fete in a few days, and who knew how long after that he was to be married. That would be two consecutive events that would prevent her from being alone with the jewelry.

Well… the job market was in a drought this month and Mélie was dying to buy meat for dinner some day soon, and 250 gold pieces would definitely get her all the red meat she desired, and finer drink too. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to scope out the scene. If she decided it couldn’t be done during these busy times, she would simply return the contract to the tavern.

She pushed out of her chair and held the folded contract between her index and middle finger.

“Thanks, barkeep,” Mélie shouted, holding it up for him to see as she pushed opened the bar door with her other hand.

“God be with you!” The barkeep shouted, looking up from wiping his counter down.

Mélie walked to her marks like she always did. But now, in comparison to her past, she had been able to afford a pair of traveling boots. She did not miss her barefoot days, but she did miss who she spent them with. As she strolled through the woods, due east towards the Moreau Estate, she thought at Arthur. And whenever she heard a bird call out in the distance, she would caw back, as if it were her brother somewhere in the wood, playing a never-ending game of catch me if you can. She knew he was gone from this world, but spiritually, she could pretend he was still with her on her jobs and contracts, just waiting at the rendezvous, cawing until she found him.

At the end of the day of traveling, just as the sun was almost completely set, she found another tavern, this one within a few miles of the Moreau Estate. Settling herself at the bar, she went straight to routine.

“Say, barkeep, what kind of work can be found here?”

“Modest work,” he grunted, looking down at her as he cleaned a tankard.

“Meaning?” Mélie asked, even though she suspected he wasn’t a supporter of her craft.

“Only work you’ll find here is filling a temporary spot at Moreau Estate. The Knight needs extra hands to set up and run the fete.”

“Oh?” Mélie had an idea illuminate in her mind. “Does one just walk up to the grounds?”

“Not unless you want to be flogged for trespassing,” the barkeep gruffly laughed. “A foreman usually comes down every morning to gather those looking for work. If you want to catch a wagon to the estate after that, you’ll have to stay the night.”

“I see,” Mélie began reaching in her satchel. “How much is your cheapest room?”

“Ten coppers. No windows, no desk, no trunk. Just a bed and a wall sconce for light.”

Mélie had slept in worse conditions. “I’ll take it.”

When the foreman had come in the morning, Mélie was able to nab a position as a linen runner. She would be working with a team of other women in charge of changing the table clothes, setting up the curtains, wash cloths and bed linens for all the guests. There were to be a lot staying the night at the Estate for the fete, which was in two days.

Mélie trained for these two days, and all the while, did what she could to sleuth the grounds, looking absolutely everywhere for the ruby heirloom set, but it was nowhere to be found. Mélie’s brain ached with frustration. While everyone else slept in the servants’ quarters, Mélie would sneak out, looking up and down all the rooms in every hall, checking all drawers and wardrobes, feeling bookcases and wall panels for hidden compartments, and still! Nothing. Maybe this was another reason why so many others turned down (or perhaps returned) the contract. No one could find it. What if it wasn’t even in Moreau Estate? If Sir Amaris truly had the necklace and ring, he did not store it with him, and that made _absolutely_ _no sense_ to Mélie.

But Mélie didn’t like to give up on contracts. She told herself to try one more time- the night of the fete. Everyone would be entranced for the festivities out in the lawn or dinning within the grand hall. The rest of the estate would be mostly empty, save for other servants, for her to peruse once more 

Right after a quick humble breakfast of nuts and bread, Mélie went through the halls with the other girls, setting all their linens in the guest rooms. For safety reasons, none of them knew which esteemed guest was sleeping in which room, but something in Mélie’s mind told her to remember one room in particular. Not that it was related to her current contract or anything, but perhaps an opportunity to snag some extra loot. One room was given linens with such a superb thread count, Mélie knew this was a room intended for someone truly special. So soft and smooth, and purest white- these linens could be made for the enjoyment of the Pope!

At around four in the evening, the guests began arriving. The air filled with lutes and lyres, thoroughly enjoyable, even for Mélie as she waited around with the other servants. Meats were being roasted, barrels of wine and ale cracked open at their spout, and early quadrille dances blossomed in the fields.

Once these diversions opened up, and the guests were more preoccupied with the booths and picnic tables outside, Mélie tried in vein one last time to search the enormous residence. She repeated all her steps, wiggled any and all loose floorboards, pulled all large books, knocked on all wall panels, and still, nothing.

“Fuck this,” Mélie grumbled. She had spent the past three hours looking for this cursed jewelry set, and still- not even she, Mélie the Fury, could find the treasure. She quietly descended the stairs, barely touching the steps with years of skill. She cut through the halls and made her way to the Grand Hall, where dinner was about to be served.

“Sir Renee Allard, and his wife, Lady Therese Allard,” introduced one of the many servants at the front of the hall. Mélie rolled her eyes. She hated how nobles always demanded attention.

As she walked further, past lords and ladies and other servants, she caught sight of the royal couple. An old man of at least sixty and a young girl of at least sixteen. Mélie repressed a gag and her heart dropped for the girl.

She pressed on through the crowd.

“Lady Beatrice De Rune,” the servant bellowed next. Mélie froze in place but turned her head. _De Rune?_ Her heart began to beat fast.

It was true, Lady Beatrice made her way down the archway of the Grand Hall, dressed in a layered black dress. Mélie wondered for a brief second if the alchemist would ever remarry.

“Lord Hugo De Rune!”

Mélie’s eyes brightened. Little Hugo! But he wasn’t so little anymore. He was only nine, but his growth spurt was simply adorable to the thief. The small boy, who used to cradle himself against Amicia’s hip when he was afraid, looked like a miniature man, dressed in a fine doublet of gold and copper thread, a jawline slowly defining and his height considerably increased, hinting of a future of being quite tall.

Mélie knew who would come next. Her heart fluttered like a butterfly as she bobbed her head left and right through the crowd, she saw her before the servant was able to announce her: Amicia, more beautiful than Mélie could remember, and she cursed her memory for not retaining her image- was dressed in a wonderful champagne gold gown with an under layer of white, a band of burgundy fabric tied around her waist and knotted in the back. It only took Mélie a second for realization to dawn, shattered from the spell of Amicia’s entrance.

“Lady Amicia De Rune!”

Within the safety of the audience, Mélie’s eyes dropped to Amicia’s chest. The gown exposed some of her shoulders and resting tastefully just above partially exposed cleavage rested a golden necklace with deep rubies embedded within.

Mélie then understands further. If Amicia was wearing the necklace she was searching so hard for, then that meant she also had the ring. Which meant…

Sir Aramis arrived from within the crowd, in a navy doublet and a black leather belt tied around his waist, a ceremonial sword sheathed at his hip. The man had a massive grin on his face as he made his way to the De Runes. The nobles around the entrance watched in romantic amazement as the knight took Amicia’s left hand in his. Amicia smiled. Mélie felt her knees weaken. She missed Amicia. She wasn’t going to lie to herself. When she left all those years ago, it hurt her, but she knew she wouldn’t have a chance with Amicia in this world, especially if the girl would somehow renew her status. It was best to leave her behind…

Sir Aramis raised her hand, and just as Mélie expected, the matching ruby ring rested on her engagement finger. Jealousy shocked through Mélie’s heart. The knight pressed his lips to Amicia’s hand, shining the precious stone in the glimmering candlelight and flames of the grand fireplace at the end of the hall. Amicia held her smile, practiced. Mélie smirked as she remembered that evening at the chateau where she kissed Amicia’s hand. She earned a real smile that night, she knew she had. Sir Aramis on the other hand? Mélie was sure Amicia smiled because she had to. It was expected of her.

But Mélie had to focus on the mission, and it was now a mission she felt she just might end up enjoying. Mélie bit her lip as all the information she had gathered over these past two days was being reprocessed and evaluated. She knew exactly how she was going to get the jewelry from Amicia. Since Amicia was the fiancé of the lord of the Estate, she had to be the guest who was given the best linen.

She would wait out the night, and when it was late enough, she would break into Amicia’s room and steal the heirloom set. She knew Amicia wasn’t a fool, and wouldn’t leave the set simply resting on her dresser, so she would have to keep an eye out for a special box among her travel luggage, which would have been stored into her room by now.

For the rest of the night, Mélie enacted her plan, watching the events of the night continue. Amicia, her mark, ate with _her kind_ and raised countless goblets of red wine to her lips, and Mélie was enchanted as Amicia quickly licked her lips once, the wetness of the wine making her lips seem more red and plump. Amicia danced among _her kind_, her hand placed against Sir Aramis’s palm as they danced quadrille after quadrille (and one absolutely sickeningly sweet quadrille saved for Hugo). And within a few hours the volume of guests started to reduce, and people started going home, and Mélie, making sure to maintain her cover, went to the foreman to collect her pay among everyone else for the evening. They would be required to stay overnight still, of course, just to collect the linens and wash them in the morning, then collect the rest of their pay before leaving.

Eventually the Estate was stark silent. Not even an owl made its presence known as the crescent moon slipped out from a lazy cloud. It was the perfect time. Melie snuck out of her roll on the floor, expertly tiptoeing past the slumbering servants. Ghostly she made her way through the halls, already familiar with the layout from only two days’ worth of prowling. She made her way to the door that she remembered belonged to the room with the best linen and put her eye to the keyhole. She just had to make sure that she wasn’t … interrupting anything, just in case. She could see a bed on the opposite side of the room, and the blankets were disheveled, but she couldn’t tell if someone was in them.

It was a risk to take, but Mélie would have no other choice. She couldn’t stay after this night without Amicia noticing her. Taking out her trustworthy lockpicks, she went to work quietly and eventually freed the lock, pushing the door open slightly, enough to slip herself through and closed it just as muted. Her eyes quickly scanned her horizon, but before she could complete the scan, Amicia stood at the far right side, her back pressed against the window, fear seizing her body, as she looked upon Mélie. Surprisingly, she was still dressed, only the ribbon around her waist had been removed. On the window sill was a bottle of wine and a goblet.

Recognition hit Amicia, and her body instantly relaxed and she stepped forward.

“Mélie?!”

Mélie stood up straight. Not how she wanted the night to go, but there was no point in running or hiding now. Facing Amicia was the safest choice for this mission.

“How are you, My Lady?”

Amicia smiled wide, her eyes squinting in happiness. It made Mélie’s stomach twist.

“Oh, Mélie. I’ve missed you so much…” She embraced her without hesitation, and as they began to separate, Amicia slid her hands down Mélie’s sides to rest on her hips. “What are you doing here?”

Mélie remained silent and frowned. She didn’t want this to become a reunion. It would make it harder for her to accomplish her task. Besides, Amicia should have known better. Why else would she be here?

“You’re here to rob me?” She asks in a cautious tone, as if she were afraid to offend Mélie with the assumption. “Melie, what has happened to you since then?”

“Nothing. Nothing has changed.” Mélie replied. “I need to make my living.”

Amicia frowned. “Let me-”

“Don’t offer me a job,” Mélie cut quick, her pride taking the reins. “You know I’m not one to stay in a place for long. I need to keep moving.”

Amicia looked down and away, in her mournful thoughts, it almost hurts Melie. “What do you need?” Amicia then asked, looking back towards her.

Mélie reached up and tapped the ruby necklace with her finger. “I need this, My Lady. And your ring… I think it’s quite disrespectful to you, My Lady, that your _betrothed_ has to get you a ring he stole from his brother. He should do better for a woman like you.”

Something changed in Amicia just then, and Melie sensed it. Amicia’s lips curled in a smirk and touched the ring on her left finger.

“Oh? What should he give me then? You want me to wear the best that France has to offer?” Amicia retorted in amusement.

“Well, of course,” Mélie replied with obviousness in her tone. “Men don’t know how to impress a lady anymore.” Amicia’s eyes dropped to Mélie’s lips for a quick second as they finally parted from the embrace, and Mélie looked away, pretending she didn’t see it. Mélie’s mind frantically marveled at how they were picking up where they left off that day in the chateau, even four years later. “A lady, such as you,” she continued, but then she found she didn’t have any words. What had she intended to say? She couldn’t let her words get too ahead of her.

_ Amicia’s not interested, she’s engaged,_ Mélie had to remind herself. But then…

“How did he propose?” She found herself asking. “Like the other men back in the day? Eyes as clear as the rain?”

Amicia smiled delightfully. “He called me a phoenix,” she laughed. “Said I rose from the ashes of France, like the sword of Uriel, all fire, and strength, and beauty.”

Mélie nodded in mock approval. “Not bad. Isn’t better than me, though. Now, I need to finish my job now, My Lady. Please, hand them over.”

Amicia’s smile hadn’t faltered yet. Mélie could see the moonlight illuminate Amicia through the window, and could see that her cheeks were pink. Amicia then bit her lip.

“Go ahead then,” she whispered sheepishly. “How about you take it?”

“Excuse me?” Mélie stuttered for a moment. “Give it to me,”

“_Take it_,” Amicia repeated, this time in a whisper. “You can have it if you take it off me.”

What had time done to Amicia? Where was the flustered girl from four years ago.

“Emboldened by wine, my lady?” Mélie played back, her face flushing hot quickly as her eyes darted to the necklace resting on Amicia’s breasts, rising and falling with each breath. “How much have you had tonight, just in your room alone?

Amicia made a soft murmur that could only be interpreted in the negative. “Only half the bottle.” 

Mélie scoffed, “You must not handle continuous drinking well, then.”

Amicia laughed lightly, a glimmer of that smile Mélie saw years ago resurface. It distracted Mélie for a second. “I’m fine, truly. I’m just so enthralled to see you again after all these years. I’ve just, had a thought. For these past few years, I’ve thought about you a lot.”

“Oh yeah?” Mélie asked, pretending to be unphased, but the blushing spread to her ears.

“Yes, and how I definitely should have been braver.”

“Braver?” Mélie scoffed once again. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re the bravest woman I know.”

“I think about that night in the chateau…” Amicia said this all so soft and gentle, almost a whisper, and Mélie sees Amicia how she was when they met, innocent, but strong and determined.

Amicia was quiet then and looked softly into Mélie’s eyes. “Do you think anyone gets to marry someone they loved?”

Mélie was taken aback by the childish question, but entertained Amicia nonetheless. “What about your parents?”

“They were arranged, for the most part.” Amicia informs. “Father had told me that they grew to love each other. I was hoping the same would happen to me with Aramis, but… I think I fell in love a while ago, but due to inexperience and social obligations still chained to me, I knowingly let them go. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about how I should have at least stolen a kiss.”

A selfish side of Mélie told her this was more than just Amicia making small talk, this was going where she used to dream it would. She was dying to make a snarky comment. But that couldn’t be where this was going. There was no way Amicia was talking about her, she must mean someone else in her past, someone in between the time when Mélie left and now.

“I don’t have time for this, princess,” she said, and leaned forward with both hands to grab the clasp of the necklace. Amicia tensed at the touch, which caused Melie to pause. “You did say take it!” Melie teased. “Don’t tell me you didn’t mean it.”

“I did,” Amicia whispered so lowly it sent shivers down Melie’s body. Not wanting to hurt Amicia, Melie tried to gently work on the clasp, and took a few steps forward. But in a moment of selfishness- perhaps inspired by Amicia’s reminiscence on missed opportunities- she took her time, and grazed her hands gently on the skin of Amicia’s neck.

“So you don’t love your dear knight, my lady?” Melie asks, finally setting the clasp free.

“No,” Amicia whispered delicately once more. Melie gently pulled the necklace forward, but not without “subtly” grazing the flesh on Amicia’s breasts. The noble lady blushed but made no comment on the act, but instead said “It is you who I love.”

Melie almost dropped the necklace, fumbling it in her hands for a lighting fast second. She is baffled, and nothing in Mélie’s bold repertoire can summon itself. “What?!”

Amicia quickly pushed a finger to Mélie’s lips.

Amicia smiles bashfully, and it makes Melie feel somewhat sorry for her. But inside, she mostly ecstatic. All her younger teenage dreams crashing back into her memory like a carriage race in Market Street. “You stirred my soul when we first met.” Amicia continued. “I don’t know. Something happened when I first saw you, when I knew I could depend on you. I felt so safe with you, despite your reckless confidence. After so much turmoil, I don’t know… you helped me feel better simply by your presence on our first day. I didn’t feel alone anymore, and that the world wasn’t all eaten up except the Inquisition.”

“It pretty much was,” Mélie corrected.

“All I could think about before I realized what my feelings were was how much I wished I wasn’t so filthy. That my clothes were clean, that my hair was done better. I was concerned about looking well for you, and I didn’t really notice at first what this desire was for, but when I realized that I cared more about your pleasure than that of our other companions, I was frightened. You know the world we live in, and I couldn’t handle a self-discovery on that level back then. All I could hear in my mind every time I looked at your lips, or your legs, or stared too long into your eyes was: sin, sin, sin. And I prayed, asking the Lord why he would have something that felt so natural be so grave. And when you were preparing to leave, I wanted you to stay. I don’t know what I would have done if you did, but I couldn’t let you get away. But I knew if you did… Mélie, eventually I don’t think I would have been able to stop myself. I would have tried to woo you or kiss you proper. I think back on that night, when you kissed my hand. Mélie, my heart was burning with the need to take comfort in your arms and give you any love you would have asked for. My first kiss would have been yours that night had I not been a prude and coward.”

Mélie needed a second to let this all sink in, and for a moment, she felt the same regret that Amicia described earlier, thinking about what Amicia’s lips would have felt like if she hadn’t been a coward herself. But fuck it, fuck getting stuck in the past, Mélie knew what she had to do now. Crumpling the ruby necklace in one hand and sliding her other hand to the back of Amicia’s neck, she pulled the Lady in for a crushing kiss.

The initial impact is rough, four years worth of longing, but it only takes a second for the two to find a gentler rhythm. Amicia is not timid when holding Melie in return, and their bodies are flush with each other as the kissing deepens. Not one to let an opportunity slip by, Mélie progresses the kiss into an introduction of tongues. It’s tame and languid because she doesn’t want to make this just _her kiss_, this moment belonged to Amicia too, so Mélie wasn’t going to let herself be the only one to set the pace. Amicia takes an inexperienced charge, pressing back with her perfectly silky lips, so much different from the chapped lips Mélie wished she could touch. Low in Amicia’s throat was a barely audible moan, but Mélie’s thief’s ears picked it up, and it made her pull away.

Amicia seemed to lean forward upon the parting, as if hoping she could bring them back together.

“No more, my lady.” Mélie smirked. “You’re a promised woman.”

“I don’t want to be.” Amicia frowned. “I did it for my family. We have worked so hard to restore our house.” Even though the room was only lit by the moonlight, Mélie could see the sorrow within Amicia’s eyes. She had the same face from years ago, only slightly more defined with aging into a woman. Her eyes were still that clear blue, her eyebrows were still graced with a natural arch, and her cherrywood hair was still voluminous, but the bridge of her nose had a faint white line of a scar, an everlasting memory of her victory over the plague. 

“Mélie,” Amicia whispered again. She touched Mélie’s chin, gently guiding her back to her, and initiated another deep kiss. Mélie lets it happen for a bit, just enough for it to heal Amicia’s now dampened spirits. Put she eventually had to have it come to an end. She pulled away once more.

“I have to go, My Lady. I have a job to finish.” She knelt down and began removing the ruby ring from Amicia’s beautiful and soft hands. Another reminder of their class difference for Mélie. “Have a good excuse,” the thief advised casually.

“I will just say I was robbed.” Amicia said, her eyes hooded as she watched Melie remove the ring. “It’s easier to lie with the truth…”

Mélie shrugged, but then was struck with an idea. After pocketing the ring and the necklace, Mélie raised Amicia’s hand and kissed it like a gentleman. She locked eyes with Amicia for a moment before she lowers Amicia’s hand. The thief’s heart swells as she sees happiness illuminate Amicia’s face once more. She’s wearing that smile Mélie had dreamt about for years, and her pride grows as she confirms she’s the only person to ever have been graced with it. Mélie couldn’t possibly leave Amicia without making her feel better now, could she?

“Goodbye, My Lady. I pray you have a well-rested night.” She stood up straight, then leaned forward towards Amicia for one last quick passionate press of a kiss. Whispering, as their foreheads touch, Mélie grinned. “Best go before I steal the lord’s wife, too.”

Amicia laughed, unable to contain a contagious grin. But then, in a hopeful breath, she whispered “Steal his wife, please.”

“I must go now,” Mélie replied, putting on a professional air. She kissed Amicia’s hand once more, then stepped away, making her way back to the bedroom door and opened it. “Perhaps, My Lady… perhaps…” She stands in the open doorway, “Perhaps I’ll come back to steal you, but you mustn’t let your family come to disgrace. …When’s the ceremony?”

“Well, if he’ll have me after _losing_ his heirloom,” Amicia emphasized, “it is scheduled for next month. The summer solstice.”

Mélie nodded, considering the date. Looking at Amicia one last time, she said: “Adieu!” And skillfully closed the door behind her without a sound. As she descended the stairs like the graceful cat she was, she made a mental note to be as dramatic as possible for Amicia’s wedding…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to be kinda steamy, but as I wrote it, I realized the situation was actually quite sad lol 
> 
> So they got to make out a bit, but I couldn't have it escalate to the point I originally had planned because it didn't make sense, romance wise, in my opinion for these two. 
> 
> IF I ever decided to write Mélie stealing Amicia, I think that's when it would get to the steamy I had originally planned lol but yeah.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed! Let me know what you think!


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